


The Ring With A Star

by SlothSpaghetti



Series: I Walk The Line [2]
Category: The Devil All the Time (2020)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cockwarming, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, PTSD, Pet Names, Smut, Unprotected Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:35:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28896741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlothSpaghetti/pseuds/SlothSpaghetti
Summary: Babyboy has nightmares, but Daddy Lee is there to help.
Relationships: Lee Bodecker/Original Male Character(s), Lee Bodecker/Reader
Series: I Walk The Line [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109396
Kudos: 13





	The Ring With A Star

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place before Bless By His Angel

Babyboy has nightmares. 

Sometimes they aren’t a big deal, he just gets up for a glass of water in the night and can go back to sleep. Those are nights where he's jittery, thinks about calling Daddy just to hear him say that everything was alright and that he was safe, but can fall asleep just as easily without it.

Other nights, he just can’t. He wakes up alone, in a cold sweat, mind running a million miles an hour, and he  **_knows_ ** he isn’t safe. Babyboy feels like he's drowning in some kinda mix of smoke and humidity and paranoia. He can tell he's in bed but he can't get the sound of cicadas and dropping bombs out of his head. 

Fear and adrenaline make him do crazy shit at two in the morning. He runs outside his house in his underwear with his hunting rifle locked and loaded and he stalks around his land - to the treeline, through the creek, around the garden - until his feet ache and the cold seeps into his bones. The frigid air calms him down enough to finally head back inside. He can’t sleep though, can’t get this feeling of being unsafe out of his head. Memories and nightmares swirl and whip around all the sensible thoughts and he can't stop jumping at all the sounds outside, can't distinguish between real and fake.

He sits inside his cabin, back pressed right up against the front door with his rifle between his knees until sunrise. Then and only then, when the rays of light are floating through the space between the curtains and he can see the dust floating in the air can he breathe again. He’s made it through the night and reality sinks in again, he can’t help the tears that fall down his cheeks as the happy birds outside chirp.

But Babyboy is a fighter. So even when all he really wants to do is call Daddy, beg the man to come over and make him forget the horrible, horrible things, he doesn’t. He unloads the shotgun, puts it back on the rack before he showers off the dirt and sweat from his restless night. He focuses on the things he can control, like how hard he can scrub his skin and what color shirt he was going to wear to work that day. He goes through his routine with meticulous movements because if something goes wrong before he’s ready, Babyboy might just cry again and he refuses. He isn’t a fucking sissy. 

And if Daddy knew he thought like that, well he was sure to chew his ear right off about how fucking stupid he was being. He’d been through hell and survived, he was a goddamn American hero, and if anyone said anything so much as impolite to Babyboy, well Daddy would make that person wish he were dead. But Daddy’s a big man’s man - has chest hair and gets a five o’clock shadow and is so tall and drinks black coffee and can smoke cigarettes without feeling sick and... well the list goes on. 

He isn’t that though. Babyboy is strong, sure, but he isn’t very tall and couldn’t grow facial hair if he tried. He remembers even being teased at school for how small he was, how girls a few years ago would have rather not gone to a dance at all than go with him. Babyboy is a bit different now, a couple of years in the army would do that to you, right? He’s got some muscle and more than a few battle scars that girls think are romantic and make him sick. 

But Daddy gets him. 

His watch says it's nearly six in the morning meaning he needs to go to the diner. 

Routine, routine, routine, the word marches through his brain as he grabs his Alice Pack and heads out the door to the truck. He reminds himself again that it’s his truck now. That the cabin is his house. They are in his control, his belongings. His fingers brush over the faded picture of his mama glued to the dash before he cranks the key until the engine turns over, backfiring slightly before coming to life in the rising sun. 

The easy listening station on the radio plays softly, it blends into the background of his thoughts easily as he makes his way down the gravel and dirt roads into town towards the diner. Despite the cold weather, he's got the window rolled down and he can see his breath. Babyboy likes the cold, needs it now, and with winter approaching he feels his soul getting lighter, can feel himself settling into his skin more. 

This early in the morning, the streets are still kinda empty except for mail vans and street cleaners and garbage trucks and the old fogies at the diner. There's a row of cars and trucks parked outside the restaurant, and at the end of that line is the cruiser. The black and white vehicle stands out in the morning sun like a beacon of safety and it makes his gut curl up in a way that always makes him smile even when he's barely functioning. He knows every corner of that vehicle by now, knows that the back left door is sticky, knows what it feels like to have the hot black metal pressed against his front while Daddy has his mouth on him, he knows that the trunk is big enough to fit a dead man.

The bells over the door jingled and Babyboy is suddenly caught up with the vision of Daddy in his element this early in the morning. He's got his hat resting on the seat next to him, a steaming hot cup of coffee in his hand, and his lips are bright red from the cherry candies he likes. He throws out some joke about a deputy and everyone starts laughing. Daddy’s in a good mood, his charm turned up extra high with elections happening soon. 

As he walks further into the seating area the old men greet him and shake his hand. He makes polite conversation just like he's supposed to and he makes sure Daddy can hear him because presentation is important, even if he can't be rewarded right there, he knows later on down the line it will be good for him. Daddy and Babyboy may not be allowed to show their love, their real relationship might be taboo, but everyone knows that Sheriff Lee Bodecker looks out for him, especially since the funeral. He was his mentor of sorts, getting him a job down at the school teaching physical education and making sure he gets to church on Sunday morning. The eternal bachelor look in Lee’s public appearance didn’t mean he didn’t want a family. No, Babyboy knew he craved it, that need to take care of and be in charge of someone, to nurture them, was something the Sheriff needed to feel human.

"Mornin' Sheriff."

The words are almost natural. Babyboy says them every day, but it doesn't feel exactly right and he knows why. 

"Mornin', Son."

He gets a grin that’s big and stretches Daddy's lips across his plump face and honestly, he already feels a bit dumb because of it. The hat isn't moved and he understands why, he sits in the seat next to the hat - not too close, but close enough he can just get a whiff of Lee's aftershave when he moves to look at him. 

"How's the team lookin’ this year, Coach?" Someone asks, but he's not really sure who because he's busy staring at the ornament on Daddy’s hand.

It’s big and gold and has a star on it just like the one on his uniform. It glints when it catches the sun and shoots little bursts of light across the diner. Babyboy is transfixed, can’t remember a time when Daddy’s ever worn it, or any jewelry except his watch. The ring fits snuggly on his left middle finger, makes the big finger somehow look even bigger, and he can’t get the thought of that finger in his mouth out of his mind. Sucking on Daddy’s fingers while he answers the cruiser radio, choking on them while he rides his fat cock, sucking on them when he just needs to let his thoughts go. Babyboy is already drooling at the thought of that extra weight in this mouth. 

"It's good," he rushes out, snapping to attention. "Tryouts went really last week. I think we'll at least make it through to sectionals this year."

And the chatter goes on. He orders lighter, just an orange juice and toast because if he eats too much after a bad night, it'll upset his stomach. He does his best to focus when people speak to him, but anytime Daddy speaks about anything, he can't hold a single thought for long. His voice is all soft-spoken with rough edges and a hint of authority, but that's all it takes to get to him. Daddy just has a power over him that he can’t bring himself to be upset about.

"Well I’mma let y'all go, I'll see ya tomorra’,"

"I'll follow ya out, school'll be starting soon."

That’s the extent of their interaction during the light of day. When the sun sets and the stars come out, when the night bathes the world in darkness and the good townspeople are tucked safely in their homes, when Babyboy sees the single flash of a red light in the distance, he drops the polite facade and lets his soul sink into the dark earth, lets himself breathe deeply and just exist. There are never people this far out of town at this time of night, not with the deer and not without a purpose, but Daddy still parks the cruiser behind trees, hidden from the road and from the cabin. 

This is new. Coming up to the house instead of meeting down by the lake or the bar was something that he’d been scared to ask for, scared that Lee would think of him. It had taken him months to work up the courage to invite the man to his empty home. There was something different about having Daddy inside his safe place, inside the place he eats and sleeps and does mundane, boring things. Everything about their relationship had been fueled by a molotov cocktail of desire and sin, so the thought of Daddy sitting in the big armchair or laying on his bed just breaks his brain sometimes… even when it’s right in front of him. 

“C’mere Babyboy, come sit on my lap.”

He knows that look on Daddy’s face, the one that says he better fess up, or tonight will not be easy. It’s always good, and he always tells Daddy what’s on his mind eventually, it just depends on if he’s gonna do it before or after he’s cummed his brains out. He sits on one of Lee’s thick thighs, his knees bumping into the other, while he fists his hands hard enough for the knuckles to hurt and tries to center himself before the fall. His face already feels too hot when he meets Daddy’s steely eyes. 

“You have a rough night?” Lee asks and it’s not even that deep of a question. The dark circles and bags under his eyes are a dead giveaway to how poorly he’s slept, but he’s awash with emotions, and the tears surface again. 

“It was just nightmares again,” he squeezes out as his throat closes up. 

Daddy pulls him up further onto his lap, hooks the back of his knees up so they drape over the side of the armchair, and pushes his face into the stiff collar of his shirt. Babyboy tries to stop the tears, doesn't want to upset Daddy because that's not why they're here, but Lee holds him close. He strokes the younger man's back, whispers into his ear that everything's all right now, and doesn't let him hold back. The tears are slow to stop, body and mind exhausted after the long day. 

But that's not why they're here. 

Lee picks him up, bridal style, and carries him to his bedroom. Babyboy has no clue how Daddy seems to be able to do this, he's always amazed when it happens, this great show of strength that also makes him feel small and safe in the best way possible. He can't do much else except cling desperately to the one thing he cares most about in the world as he feels his feet being let down to the floor. 

The sounds that leave his mouth now are ones he would die if heard in the light of day. He whimpers and begs Daddy not to let go of him, sniffles and tugs at his uniform shirt so he can't let go. A few more seconds and then he'll be better, he just needs this. 

"I'm not goin' anywhere Baby Love, s'okay. Gonna get you outta these clothes and we're gonna lay down for a bit until ya feel better." 

"I wanna," Babyboy hiccups. "I wanna make Daddy feel good, don't wanna feel anythin'. Just Daddy."

Lee holds his face in those big hands, "you wanna make me feel good?"

He nods as much as his daddy allows. If he can make Daddy feel good, he can feel good again and not like an uncontrollable, knotted mess of shame and tears. 

"Take off our clothes then, Babyboy," Daddy whispers, voice washing over him.

His hands shake as he removes Lee's uniform, taking care to fold his shirt and pants. He let his fingers graze Daddy's soft skin, getting wrapped up in the pale lines that span across his torso. He's careful not to get too lost in touching when an order has been given. Everything was done with care when it came to Daddy, it had to be when things were this fragile in Babyboy's mind still. He held tight on to his feelings, unwilling to admit them to the older man standing in front of him, confident as can be in just his socks. 

Lee moved to sit against the headboard, legs spread wide so Babyboy could see just how his undressing affected Daddy. It made him feel good, seeing how his body could make the other man excited. His nose was still kind of stopped up and his eyes hurt from crying, but Daddy's big cock getting hard makes him feel good, alluring almost, and that he's worth the attention. 

"Want you to sit on my lap, Baby."

So he straddles Daddy's lap, already feeling open and exposed by having to stretch his legs slightly, his hard cock pressing against daddy's soft tummy. He holds in his whimper at the friction, it's too early to be feeling this way, what was going to happen once he had Daddy's cock inside his pussy? He grips Lee's shoulders, fingers twitching with anticipation.

Daddy kisses him, wet and slow. His tongue lazily moves against Babyboy's as his hand holds him firmly in place by the neck. Lee's not rushed, happy to consume the small noises that come out of his Babyboy's mouth as he relaxes into the moment. Even when the first magically slicked up finger teases his hole, he just leans into it, ready to go to the edge of that floaty place that only Daddy can get him to.

"What's your rush, Angel? Ya know this is Daddy's favorite part, getting to watch you open up for me, watchin' go all sweet for me.”

“Not rushin’,” he pushed further back onto the finger with a sigh, feeling that all too familiar stretch. “Just wanna be full of Daddy.”

Maybe Babyboy wasn’t playing as fairly as he could. He knew exactly what to say to get Daddy just as riled up as him, knew how to get the good sheriff to push harder and treat him a bit less like glass and more like a whore. A single finger becomes two, then three in the span of a few minutes, his words cutting through any plan Daddy had to tease him until he was sobbing for his cock. He feels desperate anyway somehow, fingers just not enough to fill the hole in his chest or relieve the ache in his cock.

"Daddy, 'm ready, please, wanna be full," he breathes heavily against Lee's neck, lips working against the skin almost like kissing, but not quite. 

For a moment he is empty, gasping at the shock of it, and the next he feels that pop, like the tension in his muscles, just give as Daddy pushes his big cock into his hole. It always feels like too much, even as the pleasure of it all pulses through him, Babyboy thinks he might just be splitting in half. Daddy's greased up fingers immediately go to his cock and his clean hand loosens around his neck. 

It doesn't take long for Babyboy to get antsy, rocking his hips down onto Daddy's cock when he doesn't initiate.

"Sit still Angel," Daddy murmurs, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Just wanna hold ya real close an-"

"No, no, no, Daddy, please, I-"

The two clean fingers are shoved into his mouth so fast he almost chokes. They push down on his tongue and he feels it. Daddy's ring. It's pressed right on his lips, the gold is hot and heavy, and he can't help himself. His brain screeches to a halt as he feels the outline of the star pressed against his top lip. His tongue laps at the jewelry, slurps obscenely even as Lee smirks at him. 

"Look at you, just like a dumb slut, gotta have every hole fulla somethin' before ya calm down." Daddy moved his finger, massaging his baby's tongue.

Babyboy whines, eyes half closing as he starts getting lost in the feeling of Daddy filling all of him. He feels a twinge of something every time Lee calls him names, it makes him feel dirty and needy and wanted. 

"Now before I was rudely interrupted, I was sayin', I want ya to sit all pretty for me and tell me why ya didn't call me last night. Ya know the rules, Angel Baby, ya call me when ya got your nightmares. I can't have ya acting all reckless out here by yourself. You know what happened last time," Daddy removes his fingers slowly as he speaks to him.

Babyboy is slow to respond, slow to realize anything except the ring isn't on his lips anymore and a string of saliva is all that connects him to Daddy's fingers anymore. It takes him a moment longer to look Lee in the eye as embarrassment washes over him. He doesn’t want to think about last time or last night, he just wants to think about Daddy’s cock railing him until he really is dumb. 

But he tells Daddy everything, spills his guts all while there are fingers wrapped around his dick, keeping him hard if not on the edge cumming. Every time he tries to skirt around a detail, Daddy squeezes harder and rocks his hips, making him gasp out whatever he is trying to say. By the time he makes it to the end of it, he’s barely doing more than murmuring. It was getting to be too much. His head was getting fuzzy, words and actions getting mixed up, while his cock ached. 

“Daddy.”

The title falls from his lips weakly, his forehead already resting on Lee’s shoulder. He can’t think straight anymore, everything feels too sensitive and he’s so tired. He’s barely moved since getting on Daddy’s lap, but he feels like he walked hundreds of miles. He feels his head get pulled up more than anything else, all of his body feeling too heavy. 

“Don’t cry Baby Love,” fingers brush across his cheek, when did he start crying again? Does it really matter any more? “Daddy’s got ya Baby, ya did so good.”

Kisses are pressed to his jaw, his cheek, his lips, and he just melts into it. He lets Daddy love on him how he likes, can’t do much more than enjoy the ride now. Hands are placed on his hips, pushing and pulling his body, sending him higher and higher. Babyboy knows he can cum from this just alone, he’s been keyed up for what felt like hours, he just needs something a bit more. When Lee’s hand collides with ass, the metal ring on his finger is exactly that something he needed. It feels hotter than his Daddy’s palm or his stinging flesh. It feels almost like a brand on his skin. Daddy marking and claiming as his own. Babyboy’s vision turns to stars and bright light as he slips into that cotton candy dreamland.


End file.
